Page 93 of Tango
“We?” she asks.
“What kind of guy would I be if I let you job hunt alone?”
She laughs then takes a deep breath. “Frank is in the waiting room. He hasn’t left since he arrived. He’s pretty broken up over what happened.”
My heart aches for Frank. For believing he’d lost his nephew to finding out that he was behind all of this—responsible for murder and trying to steal sensitive information, all for money.
“Did the hackers get anything?”
She shakes her head against my chest. “They didn’t get anything. Your brothers got there right in time.”
“They always do.”
“Hey, Tucker?” She raises her head, crystal gaze bright and shimmering with unshed tears.
“Yeah?”
She swallows hard, then opens her mouth before closing it again. “I’m just really glad you survived. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t.”
“Me too.”
I know it’s probably ridiculous, but there’s a part of me that was hoping she’d say those three words I am so desperate to hear. Three words that would change everything between us.
Chapter 32
Alice
My apartment was once a safe haven for me. The place I’d wind down from a long day at work. I would sit at the table every morning, Bible open in front of me, sipping from a cup of coffee while the sun rose over the mountains in the distance.
Now it’s just a place where I used to live. Where my life was predictable, my days planned out to the very hour when I would lay my head down on top of my pillow.
I place my jewelry box inside a moving box then lean down when a photo strip flutters to the ground. Bending over, I lift it and feel a familiar grief settle in my chest. Ramiro and I took these photos a few months ago when we went bowling with some of our other friends. Both of us are smiling and happy, making silly faces in each of the three prints.
Who would have thought, less than a year later, he’d be trying to kill me.
Tears burn in my vision as I toss it into the trash bag beside my dresser then turn to survey my room. Bed stripped, dresser empty, closet bare…everything in boxes.
“Hey, Ali, you ready?” Dad peeks his head into my room. “Hey, are you okay?”
“What? Oh, yeah, just remembering the past.” I smile then seal up the top of the box containing my jewelry box, journal, and a few other special items I wanted close by for the move.
He comes into the room then looks down into the trash bag. “Ahh, yes. The past.” He pulls the plastic strip, tightening the bag. “He was your friend at one time. Regardless of how it turned out, it’s normal to grieve.”
“I know. But I don’t want to anymore. I want to move forward, one step at a time.”
We leave my room together, and I set the box down on top of the stack already prepped for the movers who are coming first thing in the morning. Dad sets the trash by the door then turns to survey my apartment.
“You know, I remember when your mother and I helped you move into this place. Logan was there too, if I remember correctly.”
Logan. “He was. Dropped a box with some pictures and broke the glass on every single one.”
Dad laughs. “He was mortified.”
“Replaced them all too. Somehow, he managed to get into the apartment when I was at the gym, so when I got home, I was surprised by all the new frames.”
“That’s sweet.”
“He was.” Even if we hadn’t been a fit romantically, I will always appreciate Logan for the friendship we maintained even after we’d broken up.
